


can the city forgive

by Kaynara



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: FatT Rarepair Swap, Getting Back Together, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 09:18:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaynara/pseuds/Kaynara
Summary: The Notion are put together, and Echo carefully reconnects with some people they'd been worried they'd never see again.





	can the city forgive

**Author's Note:**

> An Echo-centric fic on how ground game could've gotten back together after the Miracle, for lelouch713 on twitter for the rarepair swap! I'm so sorry it's a day late, but I hope you enjoy :D

The way they all dance around each other initially is jarring. It’s been a long year, Echo gets that, but they had hoped for more than this… awkwardness.

It’s almost easier to interact with the half of the crew that were the Beloved Dust. Sure, they’d arrested Echo at one point, but when Echo manages to ignore their own annoyance about that, they all seem pleasant enough.

Small talk with Signet is fine, but in the end, it’s not Even’s voice rumbling through their body, or Grand’s hand in theirs, or Gig’s lips on their cheek, or any of the other small comforts they’ve been missing all year.

* * *

  
They’ve only all been on the ship a day or so when Even comes to find them, because of course he does. Echo’s still trying to sort out the room they’ve chosen, trying to tie the shimmering nets together into something that might actually be comfortable to sleep on. The accommodations are less than perfect, but most of the ship is like that, and this place is, at least, quiet and far away from the main areas.

They hear his newly distinct footsteps coming down the corridor, so they’re not surprised when he knocks politely on the open door. His silhouette is still unfamiliar, with angles that seem wrong, but his smile is mostly the same.

“Hey, Echo.”

“Even, what’s up?” They hate the way they sound so casual, so unaffected, but Even doesn’t seem discouraged. He steps in, ducking under the nets, and Echo watches in fascination as his hair moves independently to help brush them out of the way.

There’s not really anywhere to go in here though, so Even stops in the middle of the room, seemingly undecided on how to start. He turns to face Echo, and runs his eyes over them.

“You cut your hair,” Even says softly, hand twitching like he wants to reach for them. Echo tries not to be disappointed when he doesn’t.

“Looks like I’m not the only one trying out a new style,” they say, running their eyes over the tendrils now brushing his shoulders, swaying slightly as if in a non-existent breeze. “And not just your hair,” they add, raising an eyebrow at him.

Even half-laughs, and shrugs a little, obviously self-conscious. He opens his mouth but Echo gets there first, rushing to cut him off.

“It’s different, but I’ll get used to it, you know?”

Even’s shoulders relax a little and he smiles at them more genuinely.

“I missed you, Echo.”

They hesitate just a little, but Even’s gaze is as steady and comforting as it ever was.

“Yeah, same,” they mumble, and Even chuckles, telegraphing his moves as he steps closer, enough that Echo has to tilt their head to look up at him. He stops there though, patient, letting them decide what they want. It’s not a hard choice. Echo steps forward and lets themself relax and fall into a hug, tension draining from them as Even wraps his arms around their shoulders.

“Back on Quire, I know we all… If you wanted that again—” Echo nods quickly enough against his chest that Even stops abruptly. “Okay,” he says, and his smile is audible.

“The others…” Echo trails off.

“We’ll take it one day at a time. We’ve all been through a lot.”

Echo nods again, and lets themself cling a bit tighter, until Even kisses the top of their head. They draw back, smiling, and loop their arms around his neck to lean up for a slow, deep kiss that warms them through.

“I missed this too,” they say, pulling back barely at all to murmur against his lips. Even grins back at them.

“Yeah, _same_.”

* * *

  
Gig is still friendly and funny, but in the almost impersonal way that he is with everybody, strangely distant through it all. His eyes still light up when he sees Echo enter a room, but he doesn’t rush over to them anymore.

Echo privately wonders whether what they’d heard about him and that guy on Brighton was true.

The four of them had never put any official label on what was going on, and if Gig had moved on, then that was fine. It’s _fine_.

Gig is in the galley a couple of days after the conversation with Even. Echo can hear him talking indistinctly as they hover outside the door, hesitating. They’re not that hungry, they reason. They could just come back later.

 _Don’t be ridiculous, it’s just Gig,_ they tell themself firmly, and they push open the door with false confidence.

Gig is halfway through some kind of tutorial, but even when they squint at the assortment of tools he has on the counter, it’s impossible for Echo to tell whether he’s making a new gadget, fixing something, or just trying to bake a cake.

Gig’s voice trails off and his eye whirrs from where it had been panning over the assorted metal implements. It turns to look at Echo, before it waves at them. That’s new, and horrifying. It still lives in Gig’s eye socket most of the time, and now it has _arms_ in there.

“Hey, Echo, come in! Don’t worry, I’m not live, this is just for fun. I’ll cut it together later.” Gig hops up on the counter, dislodging something that falls to the floor with a loud clang. Echo winces.

“Mind me asking what all that is?”

“Oh, I’m just gonna start experimenting with edible tech.”

Echo frowns at him.

“Edible… tech?”

“Yeah, I was just talking to my buddy Kent—”

“Oh, your _buddy?”_ interrupts Echo, harsher than they meant to. They regret it immediately, but it’s too late.

“…Yeah?” Gig looks at them oddly. “He’s a good guy, he’s really great.”

They shouldn’t be so petty, but they can’t stand not knowing for sure.

“Are you guys… you know—” Echo makes a vague gesture with their hands. “Together?”

“Oh! No, no, no.”

“…Right,” Echo says, surprised. “Great.”

“I mean, I thought— I know we haven’t seen each other in a while but I was hoping we’d all be able to meet up, or something. And it would be like it was on Quire again.” The words rush out of Gig while he’s staring fixedly at the floor, tapping his feet against the cupboards nervously. It’s odd to see him so visibly uncomfortable.

Their ridiculous, selfish relief that Brighton hadn’t stolen Gig away combines with the realisation that Gig still wants them all as well, and Echo represses the sudden, wild urge to laugh. Instead they close the distance between them in a few steps, and with Gig sitting on the counter they’re almost the same height, for once.

“Even and I would like that too,” they say quietly, and Gig looks back up at them hopefully, his dazzling smile back in a moment. He doesn’t hesitate, reaching for their hands, and Echo lets themself be tugged in between his legs for a kiss. It’s enthusiastic and sweet, and as they kiss back Echo realises just how much they’d missed having his warm presence around.

They pull back to run a thumb over Gig’s cheek, and he leans into it happily, eyes closed.

“Don’t you have a video to finish?”

They smirk at him when he opens his eyes to pout.

“Later,” he insists, tugging them back in for another kiss, and Echo goes happily.

* * *

  
Grand is hardest. He avoids them all, refusing to meet their eyes even if they trap him in the middle of a public conversation. It’s depressing, watching the way Gig’s face falls when Grand deflects yet another of his cheerful conversation starters and then disappears into a corridor.

Mostly though, he’s just not around. It’s frustratingly annoying that in a ship this small, he’s so adept at finding somewhere that’s always the opposite of where everybody else is.

Even wants to give him space, let him come to them, even when Echo tries to convince him that Grand is just going to keep isolating himself if left to his own devices. Gig is uncharacteristically hesitant, chewing his lip silently for ages before he confesses he’s worried that Grand just doesn’t want any of them anymore.

That means taking matters into their own hands. Echo’s used to that.

Eventually, they track Grand down in some unused storage room, perched on a stack of crates and purposefully not looking up when Echo opens the door.

“What the hell are you doing down here?” they ask, even though they already know the answer.

“I’m busy,” Grand says shortly, staring at the hard light projection he’s messing with, but his eyes keep darting back to them.

“We don’t have anything to prepare for yet.”

“Busy for _myself_.”

“Right. Obviously.” Echo sighs in frustration, remembering all at once just how maddening Grand could be when he felt like it, which seemed to be most of the time.

They decide to cut to the chase, before Grand can slip out and away again.

“We all miss you, you know.”

Grand’s fingers still for a moment, but he still doesn’t fully meet their gaze. Echo sighs again and paces closer to pull themself up next to him on the crate, carefully leaving a comfortable amount of space between them. Grand tenses, but doesn’t move away.

“Even’s talked about the Independence stuff.” Grand freezes at that, looks over to them with his eyes wide in poorly disguised panic. The lack of trust hurts unexpectedly, and Echo finds themself wanting to reach for Grand’s hand, but still unsure if he’d allow it.

“Hey. What matters is you’re here now. You’ve moved past it.”

“I _know_ that, Echo,” he mutters, petulant. “I just didn’t think you’d all be as understanding.”

“Hey, Even and I understand about second chances. We get it.” They hesitate, before shrugging a little. “And Gig just misses you, Grand.”

Grand lets out a breath before he nods, waves away the projection before he turns his head and looks them in the eyes instead.

“It’s been so long, I thought you’d all have forgotten about me,” he says quietly. “And I was trying to be fine with that.”

Echo frowns, and they can’t help but shuffle closer as their resolve weakens.

“Never,” they insist quietly, and Grand leans in the rest of the way until he’s pressed up against their side. He looks at them steadily, their faces close and a clear question in his eyes, and Echo obliges. They lean in to kiss him gently, almost chastely for a long moment before they pull away, not wanting to push him too far.

It seems to be enough, and Grand sighs, leaning more heavily into them.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. Echo raises an eyebrow in surprise, but they nod and reach for his hands, intertwining their fingers together.

“No problem, Grand.”

* * *

  
It’s not instant but it does get easier, slowly, with each conversation they have, both together and separately. They all ease up around each other, and things settle into something more familiar.

A few weeks later and it’s late in the ship’s day cycle, and when Echo comes in the other three are tucked onto the bench along the side of the pool room. Grand is on one side of Even, head on his shoulder, clearly asleep with a relaxed look on his face that Echo hasn’t seen maybe _ever_. It makes their heart clench. Gig’s tucked into Even’s other side, completely cocooned in a fluffy blanket that Echo knows usually lives under the pool table. Even himself looks tired but happy between them, and he smiles at them as they come in.

“Hey, Echo.”

“Hey yourself.”

They slip their shoes off and move to kiss him softly, smiling into it as they brush their fingers through his hair. There’s a protesting noise to their right and Echo pulls back to see that Gig’s eyes are half open, watching them sleepily but clearly tilting his head up for a kiss of his own. They chuckle and brush a kiss over his lips as well and he makes a contented noise, before burrowing further into Even and closing his eyes.

Echo sits cross legged on the floor, moving so they’re leaning back against Even’s legs, and he shifts to bring his hands up to their hair, automatically starting to separate the strands for a braid. They close their eyes as the gentle tugging sensations start in earnest and they relax by degrees, listening to Grand’s slow, deep breaths and feeling their own breathing slow to join it.

It’s not perfect. It never is. They can’t stay here all night, and soon Even will shepherd them all into actual beds, ignoring everyone’s grumbling complaints with a fond smile. But for now, it’s more than enough.


End file.
